Chapter 277 277-The Silent Duke

Howard surveyed the people around him.

Margaret, with a sweet smile, said to Howard, “My lord Howard, whatever you do is always the best.”

Resarite raised his wine glass towards Howard, declaring, “You mustn’t drink less at today’s feast!”

Kaido’s affection for Howard had diminished considerably.

At that moment, he followed suit, somewhat pretentiously, “Yes, Howard.” 𝘪.𝘤𝑜𝘮

Howard felt a sense of reassurance.

His true fear was of these vassals.

As long as the vassals were content with their lord, the lord could feel secure.

“You’re right,” Howard announced, “Today is a celebration, and we should all enjoy ourselves to the fullest!”

He picked up the mug of ale placed on the Valerian silver table and downed it in one go.

The crowd felt at ease, buoyed by Howard’s initiation of the festive mood.

Howard exhibited his distinctive style, slightly less refined in etiquette and demeanor than other earls, yet possessed of a boldness and courage honed on the battlefield.

The atmosphere at the banquet escalated, smiles blooming on everyone’s faces.

Anna noticed Margaret’s constant gaze on Kaido and asked out of curiosity, “Is there something wrong with Kaido?”

Margaret walked towards a pillar in the corner of the hall, with Anna following.

Margaret revealed, “With our recent territorial conquests, our strength has significantly increased. But Howard’s vassals will surely covet this. We two naturally follow Howard, and I wouldn’t dare comment on Resarite, but Kaido concerns me the most.”

“He played his part in the war, but he is not one of the lord’s confidants. I fear he might leverage his kinship with Howard to claim territories for himself.”

Anna responded nonchalantly, “That, I don’t know. If he asks, let him ask. Whether Lord Howard grants it to him will depend on Lord Howard’s decision.”

Margaret lowered her gaze to her swaying glass of red wine, saying, “Yes, that is logical. But I always feel that Kaido lacks a certain loyalty towards Lord Howard. If Kaido’s territories increase, I fear he might turn against Lord Howard.”

Anna patted Margaret’s head, like an elder sister comforting her younger sibling, “You worry too much. Given their relationship, it’s unlikely he would turn against Lord Howard.”

Margaret fell silent.

As night approached midnight, the serene moonlight shone on the pond’s bottom, marking the successful conclusion of the banquet.

The vassals, having left the lord’s hall, were extremely satisfied with the evening’s festivities.

Howard, bidding the maids to tidy up, staggered alone towards the railing to gaze into the distance.

The cool night breeze was particularly refreshing, rustling through Howard’s hair, lending his face an even more resolute appearance.

He understood that such unrestrained days were numbered, feeling an urgency, a sense of heightened self-expectation.

In a bold move, Howard had seized the entire territory of Count Nok, with Wislot and Gogassu now under his dominion.

His power had greatly increased, but Howard lacked political savvy.

He wanted to reward his loyal vassals with pieces of land but feared provoking the ire of Hof and Wislot City.

The most prominent structure in Nok’s territory was Castle Nok, surrounded by numerous villages.

Howard could distribute these villages as rewards, but doing so would diminish his own economic income.

In Fernsouth, Howard controlled only Castle Fernsouth and a couple of villages, the rest being occupied by others.

He was not willing to let go of Nok as easily.

Howard had been apprehensive about facing requests from his vassals during the banquet.

Even though no one broached the subject of fiefs, he knew their discontent simmered beneath the surface. .

The night deepened, and Howard returned to his residence.

The next morning, Howard stepped out of his quarters, acknowledging the maids he encountered with a nod that left them pleasantly surprised.

Clad in a beige cotton outfit, sans sword at his waist, he resembled less a lord surveying his domain and more a child on an excursion in unfamiliar countryside.

Agilely, he navigated the castle, casting an eye over everything big and small.

By noon, he returned to his residence, where maids promptly served him a fragrant meal.

In the afternoon, the mayor of Portwan, accompanied by a group, arrived at the castle gates, seeking entry.

Howard, puzzled, turned to his aide, Alonso.

“Portwan? Why isn’t he in Wislot? What’s he doing here?” he inquired.

Alonso confessed his ignorance.

After wiping his mouth with a white towel, Howard strapped a sword to his waist and descended the stairs to the castle entrance, where he met Portwan and his entourage.

Portwan, though weary from travel, was not overly disheveled.

Upon seeing Howard, he immediately bowed, proclaiming, “Greetings to the illustrious Earl of Nok!” His soldiers, following his lead, mimicked the gesture.

Howard, head slightly raised, addressed the mayor, “Mayor Portwan, weren’t you defeated and fled? What brings you to the gates of Castle Nok today?”

Portwan revealed his desire to pledge allegiance, then awaited Howard’s decision.

Pleased with Portwan’s display of loyalty, Howard pardoned his past offenses and commanded him to return to Wislot to govern the city on Howard’s behalf.

Portwan accepted the charge.

As for the soldiers, having been originally drafted from Castle Nok, Howard ordered them to rejoin the barracks.

Regarding the matter of the soldiers’ readiness, Resarite was occupied with other affairs today, so Howard decided not to summon him.

He believed that relaxation was as important as tension.

Prior to battle, it was beneficial for the troops to be on edge, but post-victory, ample rest was essential.

Resarite, his chief military officer, wasn’t obligated to work at full capacity daily.

Howard was not the kind of leader who would squeeze every drop of effort from his subordinates.

The situation in the barracks was chaotic.

The conscripted soldiers, who had fought from Castle Fernsouth to Castle Nok, were dismissed today.

Now that Castle Nok was Howard’s territory, he trusted they could safely return to Castle Fernsouth.

The soldiers at Castle Nok’s barracks, originally Mibo’s men, required reorganization.

Howard needed to make it clear to them that he was now the legitimate owner of Castle Nok.

They were his conscripts, not the troops of Knight Mibo, who had been stripped of his earldom.

Unlike Blima, who lost his title of Baron Fernsouth and became a commoner, Mibo was more cunning.

He had kept an ace up his sleeve.

Apart from Castle Nok, he also had Seasalt Village, which was neither particularly good nor bad.

Located near Castle Nok, Seasalt Village was unremarkable except for its one notable produce – salt.

In the merciless game of war, Howard, unscathed by any form of retribution, usurped the Earldom from Mibo.

Yet, his ambitions to strip further titles hit a snag.

Following the loss of his Earldom, Mibo, by rule, was automatically bound in a truce with Howard for a set period, during which Howard was forbidden from targeting him.

Thus, the confinement of Blima, now a mere commoner, might have been an act of caution for Howard, but the continued detention of Mibo, who still retained his knighthood, was a default decision by the nobility.

Howard was no fool to believe that someone he had stripped of a title would harbor any fondness towards him.

Hence, the most prudent course was to incarcerate this potentially vengeful soul.

No release was spoken of, no execution carried out, just an indefinite detention.

In his captivity, Mibo was rendered incapable of orchestrating any plans detrimental to Howard as an active noble.

This was a decision made for perpetual peace, fully compliant with the rules of war, leaving no grounds for anyone to fault Howard.

Meanwhile, in a grandiose castle, Bosiden sat in a chair, facing Duke Jiakai, who was seated in a silver chair, both silent.

Upon entering the lord’s hall, Bosiden had dutifully repeated the customary greetings, but Duke Jiakai acted as though he had heard nothing.

They sat, eyes locked in a silent standoff, words unspoken.

The chair for Bosiden had been brought by a maid, at the Duchess’s behest; otherwise, he would have been left standing.

Bosiden was a seasoned diplomat, well aware that diplomacy hinged on two factors: posture and leverage.

He suspected that the Duke and Duchess were playing a coordinated game, one playing the villain, the other the gracious host.

Time ticked away inexorably, with Duke Jiakai remaining mute.

His slightly graying beard, as steadfast as steel, betrayed no intention of engaging in conversation.

As time marched on, and the sun dipped below the horizon, Bosiden signaled his diplomatic entourage to leave the lord’s hall, observing every last bit of protocol as they departed.

Bosiden then returned to Castle Nok.

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